


i won't forget how to love you

by MayWilder



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Cadet James T. Kirk, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Professor Spock (Star Trek), Space Husbands, Spock and Jim are in love, The Proposal AU, no beta we die like men, spirk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:21:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21775123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayWilder/pseuds/MayWilder
Summary: “Captain, Admiral,” Spock says, eyes not leaving Kirk’s blazing blue ones. “I’m afraid I cannot be taken from Earth in the week before our mission, as that time is going to be used to cement my relationship to Cadet Kirk.”Kirk, face out of their superior officers’ vision, drops his mouth open in shock. He searches Spock’s features as if the Vulcan may be able to explain the current events unfolding.“When you say cement…” Pike is speaking slowly, but there is a hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth and his eyes are scrunched in an almost pleased way. “You mean to say--”“Jim--that is, Cadet Kirk--and I are getting married."***or, the Spirk Proposal AU approximately six people asked for
Relationships: James T. Kirk & Leonard "Bones" McCoy, James T. Kirk & Winona Kirk, James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 106
Kudos: 919





	1. by my side, always, by my side

**Author's Note:**

> This is for my babes in the spirk discord <3 love that I found you all and that this idea had to happen.

There is an established balance to Spock’s life. Since his childhood, he’s known that without that balance, he would slip either into something terribly cold or something terribly hot. Though he is aware his colleagues would call him robotic or distant, Spock is confident in how evenly placed he is; his diet is half food needing to be consumed for health, half food that he secretly enjoys from his childhood. His exercise regime is in place to keep him at optimal fitness, but he truly enjoys his runs through the San Francisco mornings. 

This is how he lives every aspect of his life. 

It is no fault of his that others do not see it. 

_Robot_ , they call him, or similarly, _walking computer._

“He’s a genius,” they say. “His personality, though? So... _bland_.”

 _Bland_ is said with disgust, like someone who might take a drink of lukewarm water when wanting something refreshing. Spock is used to people carrying so much dislike for him. It does not affect him, however, because he focuses on what matters versus what does not. 

_Balance_. 

He repeats this mantra to himself as he strides toward his classroom. 

Upon entering, a hush falls over his students. Some who were still standing are scrambling to their seat, while others look resolutely ahead at the board. As is custom, the only person who does not look remotely bothered is Spock’s teaching assistant who stands from his desk with a small nod. “Professor."

“Cadet Kirk,” Spock replies. He moves to take the seat Kirk was previously occupying. “Please pass out the PADDs that are in my bag. They have the final test of the semester on them.” 

“Yes, Professor,” Kirk says obediently, taking the bag from Spock’s offered hand. 

Spock cannot help but raise in eyebrow in mild surprise. “It is rare that you are so demure, Cadet. This leads me to think you are not well.”

“I’m fine,” Kirk responds. His neck is flushed in a most appealing way. “Just doing a good job on my last day here. You do remember that I graduate with the winter class this semester, Sir?”

“It is all you and your Doctor McCoy speak about, even in my classroom,” Spock answers. “I am not likely to forget.”

“There is something I would like to request, though,” Kirk’s voice drops to avoid being heard by the freshmen cadets in the room. He is looking up at Spock through long eyelashes, and they flicker in an almost nervous manner. The action captures Spock’s attention before he steels himself. 

“Yes, Cadet?”

“We’ve worked together for the past two and a half years,” Jim says. He holds the bag of PADDs almost nervously, but maintains the eye contact he knows Spock prefers. “Even though we have a working relationship, I don’t have many people who I’ve known for so long, and I thought...I thought I would ask if you would attend the ceremony. I'll be giving a speech.”

Spock does not tell him that Captain Pike has already requested his presence at the ceremony. Instead, he simply folds his hands behind his back. “If time allows, I will attend.”

The look on Kirk’s face is unnecessarily bright. “Right. Awesome. I’ll just...pass these out.”

Spock ignores the curious eyes of his students and moves to his desk. He clears his throat and motions to his teaching assistant. “Cadets, you will have two hours to complete the exam. If you finish before that time frame is up, simply walk to the front and place your PADD on the corner of my desk. You will then be free to go. For those who celebrate the winter season, I wish you a happy holidays, as I understand many say. You may expect test results within three days.”

Kirk goes on to pass the PADDs around, and Spock places himself in his chair. Sitting in front of him is his classroom PADD, already opened to the lesson plans he has begun for the next semester while he will be gone. Kirk’s notes have been made in the margin of Spock’s work, and Spock takes a brief moment to appreciate the dedication Kirk shows to his job. 

As per usual, there is a cup of Vulcan spice tea waiting for Spock just to his right. He reaches for it, pleased to have the warmth on the cold day, but a bit of marker catches his attention. He raises the cup to his eyeline and frowns. There, scribbled on the protective sleeve is _Jimmy, call me! ;)xoxo_

Looking up, Spock takes in the shirt on his TA’s body. It does not appear that he is wearing his usual jacket, but one that is slightly too board in the shoulders and bagging around the stomach. Curiosity gets the better of him, and he lets his eyes roam suspiciously over the students taking their exams. There, in the back row, is someone who Spock knows to be a good friend of Kirk’s despite the age difference: Kevin Riley. He is wearing a cadet’s jacket that is too snug, straining to fit comfortably in the shoulders. If he focuses, he can see the outline of large, wet spot on that jacket.

 _How curious_ , Spock muses as the pieces fall together. His cup is marked as Kirk’s, who has seemingly switched jackets with his friend. Yet, Spock sips from his cup and finds the Vulcan spice tea to be exactly as he takes it. 

This will be addressed. 

Spock waits until Kirk's friend turns his tablet. He folds his hands together and places them on the table. "Cadet, improper uniform is against regulation. To avoid penalty in another class, I suggest requesting that Cadet Kirk take his stained jacket back and return yours."

The young man stutters before landing on, "Professor, I–"

"Right," Kirk steps forward. "Of course, Professor."

This is where Spock's balance comes in. Here, in his classroom and in the presence of James T. Kirk, he indulges. While keeping himself steady, he lets his eyes take in the way Kirk unclasps his jacket. Other students are looking up from their exams to gape slightly at the cadet peeling the jacket off and revealing the plain white top from beneath. The t-shirt is too tight, stretching across well-formed muscle. Spock can see every contour of the younger man's body. With just enough shame to tinge the tips of his ears green, he enjoys moments like these. 

When nimble fingers begin to clasp the correct jacket shut, Spock motions for Kirk's friend to leave before returning to his lesson plan. Kirk huffs quietly and walks away to his own desk. It takes 10.8 seconds after this for Spock's PADD to light up with a message. 

_J. Kirk: you did that to embarrass me_

_P. Spock: Embarrassment is a human emotion, Cadet, and has no place with a Vulcan._

_J. Kirk: Is that why you blush?_

_P. Spock: I do not blush._

_J. Kirk: You do_

Spock looks up. Kirk is watching him, blazing eyes unfairly enrapturing. 

His PADD lights up again. 

_J. Kirk: I notice a lot of things, Professor._

Spock choose to not give _that_ particular message any thought. Instead, he types out, _And I now notice that you buy yourself my preferred tea, in case of accident._

_J. Kirk: I wouldn’t do that. It would be...pathetic._

_P. Spock: We shall call it thoughtfully pathetic._

Jim’s smile follows him the rest of the day. 

**)-(**

Kirk pokes his head into Spock's office. "Hey, Professor, sorry to bother you, but Uncle Chris passed me on my way back from my last exam. He said you need to go meet him in Admiral Komack's office as soon as possible."

"Of course," Spock breathes evenly. Judging by Kirk's following smirk, he was unsuccessful in completely hiding that he feels inconvenienced. "Would you be adverse to–

"Using my brilliant mind to pull you away from a meeting you don't want to attend?" Kirk bites his lip. "No problem. How long this time?"

"Whenever feels natural."

"Feels? Why Professor! You sounded almost human."

"There is no need for insults, Cadet." 

Kirk laughs; there would have been a time, years ago, when Spock tried desperately ignore the pleased thrill that Kirk’s laugh sent down his spine. In recent years, though, he’s come to accept the pleasant feeling that ripples from the cadet’s presence, simply dipping his head in acceptance and moving out of the office. Letting himself acknowledge his reaction to Kirk and learning how to respond appropriately to it has proved much more helpful than when he would grit his teeth and ignore the other man for hours at a time. 

Thought of that laugh dancing in those blazing blue eyes warm Spock on his trip from his office to Admiral Komack’s, where he finds the man waiting with Spock’s captain, Christopher Pike. Both men have been awarded multiple medals for their dedication to Starfleet and the Federation; Komack is notably more stern, slightly xenophobic, and takes absolutely no “bullshit” from anyone. Captain Pike, who Spock has served under for two years and twenty-five missions, is much more relaxed. He’s warm, inviting, fatherly, and carries about the air of making someone desire to impress him--or even more, make him proud. 

“Commander Spock,” Captain Pike nods. “How are you doing?”

Before Spock is able to return the human pleasantries, Admiral Komack grunts in annoyance. “Cut the shit, Chris. Commander, we’ve been notified by the Federation’s immigration department that your work visa is expired. You’re being deported.”

Spock’s stomach clenches painfully. If he were human, he would employ phrases such as “What?!” or perhaps the more mild “Pardon, sir?” but that would change nothing. Spock has heard Admiral Komack _very clearly._

“Spock,” Captain Pike says sternly. “You can’t continue working for the Academy if your work visa has expired. They’re demanding you return to Vulcan within the next forty-two hours.”

“I cannot return to Vulcan,” Spock says immediately. He is an utter fool for having become too comfortable in his life here. There has been too much enjoyment. 

“Why not?” Pike frowns. “We just need you to hop on a transport and file the appropriate paperwork from Vulcan. We’ll get you a lawyer, and you’ll have permanent citizenship in no time.”

_How do I explain that I, a Vulcan, cannot return to my home for emotional reasons? Because my arrival will be doused in shame?_

“Spock, we have a mission in one week,” Pike said. “Vulcan is part of the Federation, which allows you to continue to serve with me, but you’re grounded until this mess is fixed.”

Spock swallows, thinking of something, anything to tell Komack why he cannot leave.

His thoughts are disrupted by the arrival of Kirk. 

“Cadet Kirk,” Pike says, warmth evident in his voice at the sight of his nephew. “What brings you here?”

“I’m so sorry to interrupt, Captain, Admiral,” Kirk says. “But Mr. Spock is needed in one of his labs, there’s been an emergency.”

“It’s not really a good time, son,” Pike grimaces. “And I’m afraid Spock can’t return to the labs.”

Kirk looks put out at having no information, and an idea strikes Spock. Who else can he trust to play along, to support him? 

“Cadet Kirk - _Jim_ ,” Spock clears his throat. “Please come in.”

“You sure you want your TA in here for this?” Komack grumbles. “If you don’t come willingly, my orders are to take you by force.”

Kirk, even without the proper information, stands slightly in front of Spock. This solidifies Spock’s currently feeble plan. “You aren’t taking him anywhere.”

Spock reaches forward. His hand falls to Kirk’s clothed arm, swallowing as he finds his mouth suddenly dry. The action catches the attention of all three men in the room. 

“Captain, Admiral,” Spock says, eyes not leaving Kirk’s blazing blue ones. “I am afraid I cannot be taken from Earth in the week before our mission, as that time is going to be used to cement my relationship to Cadet Kirk.”

Kirk turns, face out of their superior officers’ vision, and drops his mouth open in shock. He searches Spock’s features as if the Vulcan may be able to explain the current events unfolding. 

“What?” Admiral Komack snaps. “You’re...you’re in a relationship with your teaching assistant? Spock, that doesn’t make any sense! You’re one of the most respected individuals in the Academy. You follow the rules, and-"

Kirk’s mouth snaps shut and he turns on his heel to face the admiral and captain. 

“With all due respect Admiral, no rules are being broken,” Kirk says sharply. “It’s against regulation the fraternize with students in your class, not TAs. Though the relationship may seem inappropriate, which was our reason for keeping it quiet, we have not done anything wrong.”

Spock briefly considers that James T. Kirk is his very gift in this godforsaken life. 

“So when you say cement…” Pike is speaking slowly, but there is a hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth and his eyes are scrunched in an almost pleased way. “You mean to say-”

“Jim-that is, Cadet Kirk-and I are getting married,” Spock finishes. “We will be eloping this week before I have to depart on our next mission to Risa.”

“And nobody has been made aware of this?” Komack says doubtfully. “Nobody knew that you were even an item?”

“My roommate knows,” Jim says. “But other than, no sir. We’ve kept it a secret.”

“Were you just going to show up on the ship married?” 

“As we will then be married, yes,” Spock responds evenly. 

“What he means,” Kirk says, quickly stepping forward to placate Komack. “Is that we were waiting until I was no longer a student or working for him. After my graduation, when we go to celebrate the holidays with Uncle Chris, I was going to bring Spock. Introduce him to the family and make the announcement.”

“Well hot damn!” Pike claps his hands together once, causing a slight echo in the wide office. “Spock, you scoundrel, I can’t believe you’ve been with Jim all this time and didn’t tell me!”

“Captain,” Komack snaps. “Though you are related to Cadet Kirk, this is not the time for you to be congratulating him. There is still the matter of Mr. Spock’s deportation-"

“Come on, James.” Pike waves it off with a scoff. “By marrying my nephew, he’ll be a citizen before we ship out. Man! What a way to celebrate Jim graduating, huh?”

“The timing is suspect-” Komack begins. 

“We were going to be married before he left,” Kirk interrupts with a charming smile. Spock has always admired his ability to talk quickly and confidently. “Honestly, we would have done it already, but as I’ve said, we’ve been waiting for me to graduate this weekend so I technically no longer work for him. And even if I wasn’t finally graduating, hundreds of couples get hitched before their assignments. It’s almost a federation tradition by now. Spock not being a citizen should not mean that our relationship is under special scrutinization, right, Admiral?”

“ _Be that as it may_ ,” Komack speaks through gritted teeth. “All cases of marriage when it comes to citizenship are questioned. We will be opening an investigation-even if its a light one. I will contact you about the time of a hearing for the upcoming Thursday.”

He pauses. 

“I find no joy in this, Commander Spock,” he continues, though he’s looking at Kirk pointedly. “You are a fine addition to the _Enterprise_ , and Chris has the greatest respect for you. This is just procedure, but we will make the process as easy as we possibly can.”

Spock dips his head. “I must express my appreciation for your understanding, Admiral, in why I cannot currently leave.”

“Make it legal, make it convincing,” Komack huffs. “Now, please...get out of my office.”

Spock and Kirk both salute respectfully before turning to exit. There is silence between them, Spock tentatively reaching a hand to brush along Kirk’s and observe his mental state. There’s confusion, frustration, even a hint of amusement. To Spock’s inner relief, he finds that the underlying tone of affection usually aimed toward him is still present. Satisfied, he places his shields back in place and is therefore more prepared when Kirk’s arm shoots out to grab his, hand fully wrapped around the vulcan's wrist. 

Spock is jerked into an alcove of the building, hidden from the view of general passersby. “Cadet-”

“Nope,” Kirk cuts him off. “None of that _cadet_ stuff, Spock, we’re engaged. _Apparently._ ”

“Allow me to express my sincerest apologies in placing you in an uncomfortable situation,” Spock begins. “I believe, however, that it will be more beneficial for us both to go along with this.”

“Oh?” Kirk scoffs. “Spock, I know you can’t go back to Vulcan. If you do, who knows how your grandmother and father will react, and the fact that it will wreak emotional havoc on you is honestly enough to make me respect that choice. People there will make your life difficult and you won’t make it back for your mission.”

Spock allows himself to show surprise. 

“I pay attention when we talk, Spock.” Jim’s features soften. “You know I do. So I understand, okay? But I’m really confused as to how this is beneficial for me.”

“You will be my husband,” Spock says plainly. “And as First Officer of the _Enterprise_ , I am within my rights to request the transfer of my spouse to the same ship as myself.”

Kirk’s eyes widen with hope. In awe, he murmurs, “I could serve on the _Enterprise_.”

“Indeed."

There is a moment, then, where Kirk looks at Spock as if he holds some great answer to the universe in his eyes. It is a tense moment. Spock is convinced that Kirk will see sense and refuse his offer - his proposal - and send him on his way, never to speak to him again. 

Alas, his friend is not one to do such a thing. 

“Alright.” Kirk's lips ease into his trademark smile. “Hope you’re ready to celebrate the holidays with my family.”

**)-(**

Jim is packing when Bones gets in from his shift. 

“You’re packing awful late,” his roommate yawns. “I thought you weren’t headed back until Tuesday to celebrate Christmas with Pike before he ships out and all that?”

“There’s been a change of plans,” Kirk admits. “Um, I’m leaving tomorrow. After graduation.”

“Graduation?” Bones sputters. “Jim, that’s tomorrow morning! Did something happen?”

“You could say that.”

“Well, can you say a bit _more_?”

Jim walks into his closet. “Spock is going to be deported unless he has citizenship, so we’re going back to Iowa to get married, that way he can be a citizen and we can both ship out with the _Enterprise_ on Friday.”

He leaves his closet to find Bones standing in his doorway, mouth on the floor and eyes as wild as Jim’s ever seen. 

“Now, Bones-”

“ _Goddamn it all, Jim!_ ” Bones roars. “Are you serious?! _Do you know the consequences for immigration scams?_ ”

“Yes, Bones, you don’t have to-"

His friend storms further into the room with a raised finger that makes contact with Jim’s sternum. “Five years in prison, Jimbo. Five years! And on top of that, you will lose any chance of a respectable job in Starfleet because the Federation won’t fucking trust you! And you’re doing this, for what, for the goblin to not miss one mission?”

“He’s the First Officer on a constitution class ship, Bones,” Jim responds immediately. “It’s not like he’s fucking around in the labs of the _Farragut._ And would you please stop calling him a goblin?”

“The guy’s an ass, Jim, and he works you to the bone,” Bones continues. “Why in the hell would you take this kind of risk for him?”

“That’s not fair to Spock.” Jim ducks away to go gather his travel toiletries. “I worked that hard because I wanted to, and I...I liked working for him. You know that.”

“Oh fucking hell.” Bones throws his hands in the air. “Are you telling me you’re getting married to this guy to keep him around so you can satisfy your stupid crush?”

Jim knows he’s flushing in embarrassment. “It’s not- _Bones_. First of all, fuck you-”

“Oh don’t be such an infant!”

“Second of all,” Jim raises his voice. “A trip to Vulcan would be extremely complicated and potentially harmful for him.”

“Is he a fugitive? _I swear to god_.”

“What? No!” Jim exits the bathroom in exasperation. “But family relations are basically nonexistent and he runs the risk of being banished because his grandmother is, like, the top bitch on that planet.”

“So he’s avoiding Vulcan to not get banished?” Bones scoffs. “That makes sense.”

“Its just not the right time,” Jim presses. “It’s more complicated than I’m making it seem. But, I’m going to do this because it will help a friend and I’ll get to serve on the _Enterprise_ with Uncle Pike. And, maybe, after all this...Spock and I can actually be friends.”

Here, Bones deflates. He dramatically lowers himself to Jim’s bed and shakes his head. “You’re in love with him.”

“I am not.”

“Whatever. You’re pathetic.”

A pause. 

“I need a goddamn drink.”

“That might be a good idea because I have a favor to ask,” Jim grins. 

“I am not lying for you and the hobgoblin.”

“Come on, Bones!” Jim keeps his smile. “Nobody will question us keeping it a secret from everybody else, but they’re going to ask about you. I just need to say that you knew, objected heavily, but kept your business out of it because you didn’t want to deal with it.”

Bones grunts. “That does sound like me.”

“Exactly!” he says. “And they might not even question you, it’s just that if they do...I would really appreciate it.”

Bones purses his lips. 

“We’ll be on the _Enterprise_ together, Bones! You and me, on the best ship int he 'Fleet!”

Bones shakes his head again. Jim is honestly surprised his neck can hold his head after how many times he repeats the motion because of Jim. “You’re gonna be the death of me, kid.”

“Awe, you love me and you know it.”

“God save me.”


	2. through winter, through heat, through rain, through fog

After the graduation ceremony, Jim leaves his friends in search of his fake fiance and his uncle. He sees them talking to other members of Command by the stage and calls out Spock’s name. The Vulcan in question turns from his current conversation at his voice. If Jim is reading the look in his eyes right, Spock seems pleased to see him. “Ensign Kirk.”

Jim can’t stop his smile and he walks into Spock’s personal space. “That is definitely good to hear.”

“I believe humans offer congratulations for these milestones,” Spock replies. “So I extend them to you. Your speech was most impressive.”

“Well coming from you, that means a lot,” Jim replies. He knows they’re surrounded by people, under the watchful eye of Command, and that’s why Spock is letting him be so close. Still, he relishes in it and pushes his luck. Reaching out, he slides his hand to Spock’s clothed wrist and gives a little tug. “Thank you for coming.”

“For you?” Spock raises an eyebrow. “It was no inconvenience.”

Jim’s heart _does not_ race. 

“Looks like I’m not the only one who’s proud of you, Jimmy,” Pike says affectionately. He moves forward to set a hand on Jim’s shoulder. “Three years. You did it, kid.”

“Told you,” Jim ducks his head, ignoring the pleased feeling he gets from Pike’s pride in him. “You haven’t seen Mom around, have yo-”

“James T. Kirk!” Winona’s voice rang from behind Jim, making him flinch. 

He looks up at Spock. “Remember that you wanted this, and don’t hate me.”

“Surely you are overreacting?” Spock challenges, but Pike sighs and shakes his head. “Very well. As Jim as stated, I have chosen this path.”

Someone jumps on Jim’s back, and affection washes over him as he realizes who it is. “Peter, what are you doing here?”

“Dad got permission to leave a little early,” Peter says in Jim’s ear. “Hey, can you take me on the Enterprise with you and Uncle Spock? I wanna fight Klingons.”

_Uncle Spock. Fuck._

“Sorry, junior.” Jim whips Peter around until he’s cradling the eight year old, who squirms in delight until Jim sets him down. “But you’re just a little too young to be fighting Klingons, alright? Maybe for your tenth birthday.”

“How about his thirtieth?” Sam protests, coming to grip Jim’s shoulders from behind. He gives him a shake. “So, you’re Starfleet now, huh?”

“Because he hates his mother,” Winona sighs dramatically, walking around to grab Jim’s face. She’s got tears in her eyes, but she smiles. “Your father, Jim...he would be so proud of you. How far you’ve come…”

“Mom,” Jim coughs. He _does not_ want to do this right now. “Don’t you want to meet Spock?”

“Spock, yes!” Winona blinks her own tears away. “Introduce us, please.”

Jim puts Peter down and reaches for Spock. “Guys, this is Spock. Spock, this is my brother Sam, his son Peter and his wife Aurelan. This is my mother, Winona.”

“Mrs. Kirk.” Spock dips his head and offers the ta’al. “It is my honor to meet you.”

Winona responds in Vulcan, speaking with perfect confidence. Jim recognizes a glint in Spock’s eyes as being impressed. They continue speaking briefly while Peter breaks the awkward tone to launch into Pike’s arms. Jim’s worry eases away as Spock and Winona speak about Jim’s accomplishments and travel plans, while Aurelan comes to stand by his side and link their arms. 

“So,” Aurelan sighs. “You chose Christmas time to graduate, and graduation to get married. You almost gave Mom a heart attack.”

“I figured,” Jim sighs. “But Spock’s going to spend the holidays on mission. The least I could have is our wedding before he left.”

“I understand,” Aurelan grins. “But honey, if you think you’re eloping after Sam and I already deprived Winona Kirk of one wedding, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Jim chuckles, eyeing Spock and his mother. When Aurelan doesn’t reply, he looks down. She’s got a mischievous grin on her face that fills Jim to the brim with dread. “No.”

“Look, the Larson’s have offered up that plantation-like home for the wedding, and we can keep it-”

“No, Aurelan, _no._ ”

“We’ve been tempering her the best we can but, Jim…”

“Fuck me, fuck me right in the ass!” Jim covers his face, tuning his ears to catch what his mother is saying to Spock with slightly short breath. 

“-and before we go to the shuttle depot, we will just stop in at the perfect shop to find what to wear.”

“Mom,” Jim cuts in with a panic. “Spock and I are not planning on throwing a huge wedding, we were going to do something at city hall when we came back to the city.”

“It won’t be huge,” Winona argues. “But it will definitely be something, you’re not running off like Samuel did.”

“Mom, Spock is Vulcan, you can’t just spring this kind of stuff on him, he’s a private guy.”

“Even Vulcans have bonding ceremonies in public, Jimmy, don’t insult my intelligence.”

Jim looks at Spock guiltily, but the Vulcan only presses his arm along Jim's in reassurance. "That is very kind of you, Winona, as your hometown will likely not have traditional Vulcan robes for me to purchase." 

"Exactly." Winona smiles at Spock. "Jimmy, I've made us reservations at that Italian place you said Spock liked."

"That was very considerate of you, Jim," Spock murmurs. 

"Anything to make the time with my family easier," Jim tells him. "And I know you really like it. Before you try and say anything, either, I know Vulcans don't _like_ things but you like fettuccine alfredo from _Vincent's_ and I won't listen to you protest." 

Fingers brush the inside of his wrist. "Thank you, Jim." 

His heart skips a fucking beat. 

"Anytime, Spock."

**)-(**

After a grueling time of picking out suits and robes ("Spock, you have to wear red, it's such a complementary color!") and a family style lunch where everyone except Spock gorges themselves on Italian cuisine, Jim and Spock have some alone time in their private transport. It won't be a long ride, but the hour can be spent letting Spock meditate. Jim grumpily guesses that he's going to need it if Winona continues to be as overbearing as she is. 

He's just settled down into a comfortable chair when Spock gently says his name. "Yeah?"

"I am confused by your family dynamics," Spock says. "I would greatly appreciate clarification."

"What do you mean?" Jim frowns, chin propped up in one of his palms. 

"I had thought we were similar in our estrangement. You have not returned home for the entirety of your education, and you rarely speak of your family except for Captain Pike. Yet today, you were amicable with your brother, and your mother showered you in affection. Though not wishing you any pain within your family, I admit I do not understand."

Jim fidgets for a moment. "It's complicated, I guess?"

Spock continues to stare from his meditative pose on the floor, expectant and patient. 

"Right." Jim huffs. "Growing up, my mom was never around. She was pretty messed up after the _Kelvin_ , you know? And I looked just like my dad, which made it worse. She was never home, left me under the care of Frank, her's and Pike's younger brother. He was...well, that's another story I don't wanna get into. He was an ass, at the end of the day. And Sam, he was older than me, and I idolized him. Things were worse for him, he was always taking the hit for me. Guess he had enough one day, and he left home."

Spock doesn't frown, but Jim recognizes the glint in his eye and the way his jaw sets. "He left you alone with an abusive uncle." 

"But before that, he protected me. And he just snapped. It isn't his fault, really, he was just a kid."

Still looking bothered, Spock dips his head in an acknowledgement for Jim to continue. 

"After that, things got really bad for awhile. Frank ended up sending me off, and...well, you know what happened. When shit went down, Mom had a wake up call of sorts. Came home, gave Frank the boot, and officially retired. She tried to be a good mom, but I was too angry by then. Acted out a lot in ways I don't honestly feel like getting into. Anyways, Starfleet came to Riverside one day three years back and Pike finally got me to enlist. I haven't been back home because going home is hard, sometimes, and I preferred staying and working with you through summer breaks and holidays. It always frustrated Uncle Chris, but...even after Peter was born and Sam asked forgiveness, it was just...really hard, you know?"

"I am aware of the difficulties family represents," Spock replies lowly. "My mother does not communicate with me as often as we would like because of my estrangement with my father and the Vulcan council. My brother—well, as you say, that is a story for another time." 

Jim cannot hide his shock. "You have a brother?!"

"Yes, and a foster sister."

Jim knows he must look like a gaping fish. "I've known you for three years, and I probably know you better than anyone else. How did I not know you have siblings?"

"You are not the only one with complicated family situations, Jim," Spock tells him. 

"You can't just leave me hanging!" Jim moves from his chair to the ground, crossing his legs in front of Spock. "You brought it up and now I have to know."

Spock raises a solitary eyebrow. 

"Please?" Jim pleads, not thinking about how much he loves that eyebrow look. "Think of it as indulging one of my human desires, like that time we went to the bar with my command friends, and you had that chocolate martini."

"I can recall."

"Come on, you had fun." 

"Vulcans do not have fun."

"But _you_ do," Jim smirks. "You had fun beating everybody's ass in pool." 

Spock folds his hands in his lap and disregards Jim's comment. "Michael is my sister, a girl who was taken in my by family after her parents were killed on an exploratory mission. There was a fight in our younger years that led to us ceasing all interaction, even when living in the same home. She is older than me, and enrolled in Starfleet years ago. We have still not interacted." 

"And your brother?" 

"A story for another time, Ensign Kirk."

"Jim. Why do you call me Jim in front of my family and not in private?"

"We are engaged. Your family would not understand if I addressed you as Ensign Kirk." 

"But when we're in private, it sounds weird. Call me Jim." 

"Very well...Jim." 

"Cool," he grins triumphantly. "So! You need time to meditate before facing the wolves again?"

"Are there wolves in your hometown, Jim?"

"You know there aren't, you sassy little Vulcan. Answer the question."

"You are certainly comfortable ordering me around."

"You're not my boss anymore, bite me."

Jim regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth, but he stays confident and relaxed—even though Spock's ears tinge the slightest bit green. "I'm serious. Do you need to meditate? There's a lot of out of control emotions in my family." 

"Yes, but I am accustomed to many emotions of cadets. And though I always appreciate your consideration of me, I believe we should discuss our backstory in more depth. In my experience, humans are quite inquisitive about romantic affairs." 

"Nosy as fuck? Definitely." Jim leans back on his hands. "I guess we should practice since you're a Vulcan, and you won't lie."

" _Cannot_ lie."

" _Won't_ lie," Jim sings. "So our story needs to be somewhat rooted in the truth. Everyone knows I was your TA. When was our first date?"

"As you said, the story must be rooted in truth. The first place we had dinner together was _Vincent's_."

"We can say it felt different," Jim continues. "We'd eaten together plenty of times in the office over essays and exams, but this was a celebration. Me for passing with perfect scores last year, and you for your promotion."

"I recall," Spock says. "It was not long after that when I attended a bar with you and your friends."

"And after that, we started going out more often on our way home," Jim says. "None of this is false, and we'll just tell people the more time we spent together outside of the classroom, the more we understood each other without academics as a bridge." 

"I came to appreciate your…" Spock paused briefly. "Your acceptance of my Vulcan attitudes and respect for my lifestyle choices." 

"Spock. A relationship has to be based on more than that. When someone tells you what you like about me, what will you say?" 

_Spock is rarely tired._

_As a Vulcan, he does not require the rest that his work companions do. He operates under that principle, working until his body demands otherwise. It is a process that has never failed him._

_Until, it seems, after a particularly gruesome mission._

_The morning after Spock’s return, when he is expected to resume teaching, his human half evidently gets the better of him, and he sleeps heavily, longer than intended. He wakes at 11:54 to a message from Cadet Kirk, reading **I am covering your classes for the next two days based on "an awful case of Vulcan flu.” If you look in the fridge, there are homemade meals prepared.** _

_**That was unnecessary,** he types back. _

_**Rest, okay? Sleep. Meditate. Eat. I'll bring notes by tomorrow night so you you're aware of everything happening in your class.** _

_As Spock falls back into a deep sleep, he has the chance to wonder if anyone on this Earth has cared for him so._

_The answer is, of course, no–not a soul._

_\--_

_“Nyota.”_

_“You’ve been playing chess with Kirk in the rec center.”_

_“He is a shockingly formidable opponent. I have not been thus challenged in some time.”_

_“But he’s **Kirk.** ” _

_“Explain, if you will.”_

_“He’s Kirk. He’s a hick, he’s an idiot.”_

_“He may be many things, Nyota, but Cadet Kirk is no idiot. Truthfully, I believe he may be a genius.”_

_“What?!”_

_\--_

_“So, I’m writing a paper on the theoretical idea that I could basically sling shot a ship through time.”_

_Spock raises his eyes from the chess board between them. “Elaborate.”_

_“Gravity assist,” Kirk grins, holding one of Spock’s bishops in his hand. “Using the concept of gravity assist to slingshot my way back through time. And forward, honestly. It’s for my orbital mechanics class.”_

_“I see,” Spock nods. “There could be some merit. Shall we discuss?”_

_“I was hoping you’d ask.”_

_\--_

_“Spock.”_

_“Doctor.”_

_“What the hell are you doing here?”_

_“Cadet Kirk has not returned to the Academy in two days. His communications are vague, and he does not answer my calls. This is irregular behavior for him.”_

_The doctor snorts. “You’re worried about him.”_

_“Vulcans do not worry,” Spock replies. “Nevertheless, I would appreciate admittance into your home to investigate the matter further.”_

_“I can’t get him to open the door.” McCoy steps aside, motioning towards the inner apartment. “You’re welcome to give it a shot.”_

_Spock does not comment on the phrase, but walks through the entryway. He sees a closed door and makes his way to it, speaking loudly. “Cadet?”_

_There’s a rustle, a low whisper of “Spock?” that only Vulcan ears could pick up._

_“I request that you grant me entry into your room,” he says. “I have brought chess and tea.”_

_McCoy watches from paces away, but Spock strains his ears to focus on the sound of sheets rustling until footsteps pad across tile. There are six beeps from the door panel inside the room, and then the door is sliding open. Jim is standing before him, sweatpants hanging low on his hips. His torso is bare, giving Spock a view of exactly how pale he currently looks._

_“I--” Jim’s voice is scratchy, and he coughs. “You, uh, probably figured out about Tarsus at this point.”_

_“You left abruptly when it was brought up in class discussion.” Spock resists reaching for his TA's hand. “I speculated there was a connection.”_

_“Well, what do you want to know?”_

_“Only what you wish to tell me.”_

_Jim doesn’t look up. “I want to tell you everything.”_

_“Very well,” he replies. “I will prepare tea.”_

_\--_

_Jim and Spock are coworkers._

_Despite Jim’s cadet status, Spock as never instructed him, only worked alongside him. In that time, he has proven to be intelligent, quick thinking, compassionate, and stubborn. Always so stubborn._

_“We’re friends, aren’t we?” Jim grins. “Come on, just one drink with the boys.”_

_“I will not participate,” Spock argues. “We are coworkers. Our relationship is professional.”_

_“Don’t be like that! We’ve been together for almost two years.”_

_“We have **worked** together.” _

_The topic is dropped until the following weekend._

_“We spend all of our time together,” Jim says once the classroom is empty._

_“We are working.”_

_“But sometimes not! There’s late nights ordering food. There’s chess. There’s arguing over your harsh grading, and coffee runs.”_

_“All to better fuel work productivity.”_

_“Bullshit! You like being around me.”_

_“I am not ‘having one with the boys,’ Cadet.”_

_The next week, Jim’s argument is based on how they’ve gone to dinner before._

_“We had cause to celebrate,” Spock reminds him. “Good luck next week, Cadet.”_

_This persists for seventeen weeks. Even when Jim respects the classroom structure and Spock’s insistence that they are not friends, he continues to offer company on his way home. Spock declines every time, insisting he is too busy, and Jim sighs dramatically as he walks away._

_Until._

_Until._

_When Jim’ birthday comes, Spock is helpless to turn him down, and they end up in a jazz club. It does not take long for Spock to understand that it was the wrong decision to accept. He stands at a table, sipping tonic water, as Jim follows a beautiful woman out onto the dance floor. He twirls the woman to the beat of the music, but does not seem terribly engaged with her. Instead, he throws his head back and connects to the music. It is as if Jim can feel the jazz in his very bones, moving in one with the tune. There’s a distinct impression of making love as his head falls back, his lips part in a breathless smile, and he moves with abandon._

_Something awakens in Spock at the sight, and he yearns._

Spock gives him a look that speaks of confidence. "Have no fear, Jim. I will have plenty to say on the matter." 

**)-(**

It quickly becomes clear that Jim does not like being in his childhood home. 

From the moment they enter the three story farmhouse, Jim is tense. He looks intently at some parts of the home (the roof in front of a particular window, a swing on the porch, a rickety rocking chair) while completely avoiding other parts (the back door causes the hair on his arms to raise, there is a locked door in the downstairs hallway he turns his body away from). His usual chatter has disappeared to let his mother speak about the renovations they've done and how the attic suite has been freshened up entirely for Jim and Spock's use. 

Spock admits to a certain regret in their situation bringing them here longer than Jim would prefer, but he reminds himself that they have both agreed to this decision. To change their minds now would be incredibly suspect. 

When they are alone in the attic suite, Jim places himself in a plush chair by the window and lets out a dramatic sigh. Spock works through his thoughts to find something to help the man, as Jim is always so considerate of him. 

_I like to cook,_ Jim has said before. _It settles my mind when I'm uncomfortable._

"Jim," Spock says. "It is Vulcan custom that guests prepare breakfast for their hosts one morning. To ensure that the food is to your family's liking, would you perhaps join me in making this meal tomorrow morning?" 

Jim looks up, something like relief spreading through his features. "Yeah, of course I can help. We can run into town for groceries before all the people Mom is bringing over for dinner tonight. What were you thinking?"

"My mother enjoys frittata. I thought to make something along those lines. Would your family approve?"

"Yeah, totally," Jim says. "Wanna settle in or head out now?" 

Spock observes how Jim's fingers anxiously dance on his thigh. "Now will be sufficient."

"I see what you're doing."

"I would think so. I am standing directly before you. If you could not see what I am currently doing, I would be concerned." 

Jim beams and launches to his feet. "Good thing you're still bundled up. We're taking the bike." 

The trip is not very long, but Spock spends it holding to Jim's waist on the back of an old Terran motorcycle. Upon their arrival, he observes how any passing local reacts to Jim with crows about how impressive it is that he's come so far, that he has turned out exactly as they expected of him. Spock sees the doubt in Jim's expression when they say that. He is gracious in his responses, however, and simply tugs Spock away before questions of a wedding can arise. Despite his earlier manner of being tightly wound, moving about town and telling Spock stories of places they pass bleeds some of his tension away. 

By the time they return to the farm house, Jim is whistling and chatting about the time Dr. McCoy visited and got caught in a blizzard. The southern-grown man did not appreciate the amount of snow he experienced. 

"Thanks for this," Jim mutters as they put away the fresh foods they purchased. "I appreciate you letting me settle in, in my own way."

Before Spock can respond, Winona is rushing into the kitchen. "Guests will be here any minute, boys! I'll finish putting these away, go get ready."

"But, Mom-"

"Now!"

**)-(**

"Spock?" Jim asks, coming into the room. "Have you seen my–oh. Um, _damn_ , Professor."

Spock raises a solitary eyebrow. "Aurelan chose my clothing for the evening. She says this is an appropriate Terran outfit."

"It is," Jim says. His neck is flushed and he cannot seem to look Spock directly. "You look really good, Spock." 

A curious response. His jeans are snug, his black sweater comfortable and heavy enough to fight the chill. It is a simple outfit that brings him more comfort than he usually sees on masculine presenting humans, yet Jim seems taken aback by the appearance. His eyes are particularly latched onto the hint of tattoo at the edge of Spock's three-quarter sleeve. 

"You have a tattoo," he murmurs. 

"Jim! Spock!" Winona calls up the stairs. "There are guests waiting for you!" 

"Right, we'll revisit the tattoo thing." Jim shakes his shoulders out. "Come on, Spock. Time to face the wolves."

"You have wolves in your house? Perhaps I will stay in the safety of our bedroom." 

"Wow, you’re just _so_ incredibly funny with with your witty and literal remarks."

"I offer gratitude in your recognition of it."

Jim grins, even as they make it downstairs. An interesting sort of mask slides over his features as he looks at the people come to 'celebrate' him. There are many Starfleet individuals, all who seem quite comfortable expressing congratulations and familiarity with Jim. The young man does not return the sentiments with true heart, but still offers smiles and thanks to all around him. Spock can admit to some sort of primal satisfaction that he is privy to true smiles and gentle gratitude; these officials and neighbors are not granted the same courtesy. 

They have made their way through the large living room of people when Jim's fake smile edges into one of disbelief and possible affection. Spock follows the ensign's line of sight and is surprised to see Carol Marcus on the arm of her father, a man recently promoted to Admiral. 

"Carol!" Jim exclaims in shock. "What are you doing here?!"

"Your mother called." Admiral Marcus watches Jim and Carol exchange kisses to the cheeks. "Thought we should be here to celebrate your engagement since we'll miss the wedding."

"Wow, it's amazing to see you guys," Jim says. Still holding an arm around Carol, he tugs her to Spock. "Spock, this is Carol Marcus. Her dad oversaw some of the _Enterprise_ construction when I was in high school, so we went to school together for a couple years."

"We are acquainted," Spock says, unable to draw his eyes from Jim's hand in contact with Carol. "Lieutenant Marcus and I serve under Captain Pike together. She is part of my science crew." 

"Mr. Spock," Carol says coolly, but still smiling. "A pleasure to see you again." 

"That's so cool y'all know each other!" Jim laughs. "Looks like you'll be seeing more of each other than I'll be seeing of either of you. Really, Carol, it's so awesome you're here."

"I'm just glad we could make it," she tells him. "Even if we were late. Speaking of which, did we miss the story?"

"Please clarify," Spock insists. "' _The story_ ,' Lieutenant?"

"Of how one of you two proposed," Carol smiles slyly. "It was you, wasn't it Jim? You've always been so romantic." 

"I've actually never heard it either," Winona offers from across the room. "Would you share it with us?"

"It is an engagement party after all," Sam smirks. "Why not tell of the engagement?"

Jim's arm drops from around Carol as eyes turn to he and Spock. “Um, well--”

“Come on!” one of Jim’s high school friends calls. “Jim was always super smooth in high school, let’s see how he handled the proposal.”

Jim shoots a charming smile to the crowd. “Alright. Um, Spock got his orders that the _Enterprise_ was headed out before Christmas a couple weeks ago. I was...distraught, of course, that we wouldn’t have our first Christmas as an out-in-the-open couple. And Spock here, is just so romantic. I know, I know! But he is. So this sly man arranged something my uncle had been told not to do.”

Spock realizes that once more, Jim is pulling from facts to construct their tale. This happened in real life. 

“It was fortunate that a security officer was thankful for me saving his life in a previous mission gone wrong,” Spock continues. “He was able to let us on board the _Enterprise_ when nobody else was there. Jim, who grew up watching the _Enterprise_ built here in Riverside, was able to tour the entirety of the ship. There was...an edge of wonder to him as he explored for 7.56 hours until he was satisfied.”

“I was overcome with emotion,” Jim admits, looking up at Spock once again. There’s something fond in his eyes, and Spock recognizes a true smile. “He handled it quite well, and didn’t even judge me for crying when I stood on the observation deck, looking out at earth from where the _Enterprise_ was docked. In that moment, I was so happy. I knelt, told Spock I would miss him more than I could bear when he left, and asked him to marry me before he did. I didn’t wanna wait any longer.”

There was a small chorus of ‘awe’ throughout the room, but Spock was unable to pry his eyes away from Jim’s. The other man often is, as always, completely readable to Spock. He offers affection and warmth that Spock has not experienced in some time, simply in the way he does not hide himself from the Vulcan. It draws Spock in, and he finds himself choosing to ignore those who stare at them in favor of paying attention to the curve of Jim’s lip as it pulls into that sincere smile. 

“Okay, that’s it,” someone calls. “Give us a kiss!”

There’s encouragement from the others, but Jim colors and turns to address them. “Vulcans do not share kisses in public, it’s inappropriate.” 

“There is the _ozh’esta_ ,” Spock says, almost against his own accord. He justifies it by reminding himself these people need to believe he and Jim are in love. “It is appropriate for bondmates to share in public.”

Though Spock would prefer this happen for the first time in private, as he has indulged himself and imagined before, Jim nods. “Yeah, okay.”

Spock holds out his index middle finger. Jim raises his own hand in a mimicked gesture. Spock works to control the blood that fights to flush his features. He cannot, however, stop the shortness of breath when Jim’s fingers contact his own, rough pads of his skin gliding across Spock’s nerves. A thrill of pleasure easily associated with Jim shoots down Spock’s spine once more, and he is aware of how his distance from Jim decreases. 

He can breathe in the scent of Jim’s cologne, spiced and warm and with the intoxicating hint of chocolate. 

Jim seems similarly affected, his lips parted _just so_ and his pupils blown. He is surprised, Spock can see, and perhaps even a little pleased. Humans, apparently, can share in the pleasure of a Vulcan kiss. Spock desires to draw his fiance closer, let down his shields and understand how deeply the pleasure of skin-to-skin contact can go for Jim. 

The thought clouds his mind, long after the kiss is broken and conversation is resumed. 


	3. unlike the snowflake on the ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day before the expected wedding, hard conversations are had and guards are let down. 
> 
> Ah, mothers.

Spock is woken from his meditative state by the ringing of his comm. 

It is just after sunrise. Spock wonders at who could be contacting him at this hour, yet rises in the middle of Jim's grumbling about the noise. He accepts the call without looking. "Pardon me for just a moment—

"Yeah, that is not happening, young man." 

Spock freezes. "Mother?" 

Jim scrambles up in the bed, hair sticking many different directions and sleepy eyes wide in confusion. "Your _mother?!_ "

"Is that Jim?" Amanda Grayson says. "The man you've been seeing and didn't bother to comm me about?"

Spock swallows. "Mother. I. _Well_."

"A Vulcan, speechless. I'm switching to a video comm."

"Mother—

"Say 'Mother' _one more time_ ," Amanda hisses, before there's a rustling sound. Spock rearranges him comm to be in front of him and an image of Amanda appears. She is not wearing a head wrap, and her curls are wild around her. She looks simultaneously hurt and furious. A memory from Spock's childhood rises unbidden, and he attempts to reason away fear. She is not even on the same planet. She cannot punish him. 

"You're getting married in one day," Amanda says. "One day, and you did not even attempt—Spock, I—"

Spock is horrified to see tears sparkling in her eyes. 

"I would have wanted to meet him, to know you at least had someone," Amanda continues. "I know it's hard for us to communicate when your father has forbidden it, but this is huge. I had to hear about it from Michael! Your sister called, shocked at the news and asking if I knew anything. Which of course I didn't. I have never been an overbearing mother and I have respected your wants to be Vulcan. But you are marrying a human in one day. I thought we were–well, it doesn't matter, I suppose." 

There is a pause, where neither of them speak. 

"I shouldn't have called to yell at you," Amanda whispers. She wipes at her eyes. "I just. I want to say congratulations. I am proud of you, Spock, and everything you've accomplished. Your career and who you are. I am so proud of you. And I wish I could be there, I wish I could meet him, but I cannot. And I hope you can forgive me for that."

"Mother," Spock says, his voice finally firm. "There is no reason for you to ask forgiveness. Would you...like to meet Jim?" 

Amanda blinks. "You're... comfortable with that?" 

"Completely." Spock turns to Jim. The man is still sleep-dazed, but he nods and pats the bed. Spock obeys, walking carefully to the bed. When he settles onto it, Jim leans against him. Their bare arms press together and the warmth of Jim's skin has Spock's mind clouding slightly. "Mother, this is James T. Kirk, my fiance." 

Amanda covers her mouth with her hand. "Oh. Hello, Jim. It is such a pleasant surprise to meet you." 

"Hello, Lady Amanda," Jim says. "I've heard so much about you."

"I wish I knew if that was good or bad," she chuckles. "Tell me, have you heard the story of how Spock was sunburned in Egypt?" 

"If only there were pictures."

"Oh, honey, _there are_." 

Precisely thirty minutes and seventeen seconds later, Jim wipes tears from his eyes and tries to shake the laughter away. Spock is recovering from yet another embarrassing story, but he finds a comfort in how Jim and Amanda speak like old friends. 

"Well, I have got to get some sleep," Amanda sighs. She reaches a hand to her heart. "Jim, it was so lovely getting to talk to you. And Spock...I love you, _sa-fu_. Live long and prosper."

"Peace and long life, mother," Spock says softly. 

The comm shuts off. Spock takes a moment to close his eyes and center himself. It is surprisingly easy with Jim by his side, the touch centering him. 

"You miss your mom," Jim comments. His arm moves slowly, going to wrap around Spock's back. He is projecting warmth, comfort, reassurance. "It's okay to miss her, Spock." 

"It is illogical," Spock murmurs. "Missing someone I shall never see again does nothing to change the fact." 

"But it reminds you where you came from and allows you to look back on fond memories," Jim says. When Spock does not respond, he collapses back into his pillows and burrows with the covers around him. "Tell me about her." 

Spock turns. "Jim."

"Spock." 

"We should begin our day. Captain Pike is coming to the house for Christmas, and the wedding is tomorrow so we will both require rest--"

"Nope. Tell me your favorite memories about your mother."

"Vulcans do not–

"They do have favorites, shut up, I'm yours. Otherwise you wouldn't have put up with me as your TA for three years. Now come on, tell me."

Spock resists the urge to sigh, something Jim often tries to draw out of him.

"Very well. Have I ever told you of a sehlat?"

While Spock speaks, Jim keeps his arms behind his head and maintains eye contact. This is how Jim always is during conversations. He is attentive and only speaks to chuckle or encourage further conversation.

Even while Spock speaks of his mother, he is conscious of how there is no other human like James T. Kirk. 

**)-(**

"You do not wish to go." 

Jim looks up from lacing his boots. Spock is standing in the doorway of their room, hands folded behind his back. "As usual, you're right."

"You are very close to your uncle. Why would you not wish to go pick him up?"

"Because," Jim sighs. "This means forty five minutes in the car with my mother, who is going to use that time to harrass me about leaving staying on land at all times. As if I wouldn't lose my fuckin mind working behind a desk." 

"You would indeed not do well," Spock answers. "Would it placate your mother if I went in your stead?"

"I'm not going to subject you to that," Jim snorted. "You'll be running away from me when you get to the station."

"Unlikely," Spock replies. "Nevertheless, if you are certain, I will keep your nephew company as planned so that your brother and sister may venture into town." 

"He's pretty easy." Jim stands to his feet. "Put on an old movie, one from the golden age of Disney. Give him some hot chocolate and he's set."

Spock nods. "You _will_ be well, then?" 

Jim sighs and steps forward, putting a hand on Spock's arm. He imagines what it would be like if they were truly engaged, to be able to hug and take comfort in the other man. Still, he squeezes Spock's forearm and smiles. "It means a lot that you wanna make sure I'm okay, but I'll survive. Alright?"

An almost-sigh. “Very well.” 

Twenty minutes later, Jim wishes he didn’t curse himself. 

“So,” Winona says, a forced cheer to her tone. “Have you got an assignment yet?”

Jim feels his shoulders tense. “Yeah. The _Farragut_ , in January.”

“Where to?” 

"Diplomatic mission," Jim sighs. "I'll be in engineering." 

Winona's hands squeeze the steering wheel. "Guess it's too much to ask that you stay on ground?"

"Mom," Jim warns. 

"Jim," she says back. "Why won't you even consider it? You want to go onto a diplomatic vessel, on missions to people who could swing any kind of way while your captain tries to make or keep peace? You know that engineering always takes the most casualties!" 

Jim purses his lips, attempting to control the rise of frustration. "I'm not having this argument with you again."

"What argument? You refuse to talk to me! You haven't been home in three fucking years and now you're graduated and you wanna what? Get married and run off again?" 

"That's not fair," Jim snaps. "You know why I don't come home, what this house feels like to me!" 

"But I'm there now, like after—

" _After Tarsus?_ Like that makes it _better?_ Those were the hardest four years of my life!"

"So you don't need to live at the house, but can't you not go up _there?_ " she pleads, glancing between him and the road dangerously. "Jim, the first and last time you took off on a starship, you almost died. Why would you want to do it again?"

"You went off to space to find Dad's spirit," Jim says. "You left me with that asshole, alone, for years, and Sam left not long after. Nothing good as happened on the ground, not since you left."

"Why don't you blame Uncle Chris? He wasn't around either, he was in Starfleet while you were with Frank!" 

" _Because he isn't my mom!_ "

Jim doesn't realize he's yelled until his mother slams on the breaks at an intersection. It's a startling picture, Winona's wide eyes staring at him in the middle of an empty four-way, snow covered fields around them. His childhood town is empty, a soulless picture of white and grey. Like Frank's eyes when he raised his hands to strike. Like Tarsus, when the white fungus came and food began to die. 

"You were supposed to be there for me," Jim croaks. "You were supposed to be a mom, and instead you ran off to the stars. You left me with Frank, and when you even were home, you didn't care that I was bruised or broken or scared. You left me, over and over and _over again_. And showing up after Tarsus, staying in that house with every bad memory? That didn't change anything! You never apologized, or acted like you were wrong. You just came back, sixteen years too late!" 

Winona blinks, and tears fall. "I didn't know how to be a mother to you after being gone for so long. And you were so withdrawn, and you didn't seem to need me anymore. You took care of yourself and you didn't want me around, and I know it's my fault, but I-I...I don't know, Jimmy. I didn't want to let you out of my sight again."

"All I needed was you to show up." Jim's hands are shaking and he finds himself wishing Spock was there like the Vulcan had offered, a steady and solid presence. Always steady and solid. "And when you did, everything was wrong. I had to learn how to take care of myself. How to take care of others. I didn't need you to take care of me, I just needed you to _be there._ "

"You keep saying that, but I was!"

"No you weren't, you never were! Your body was there, but _you_ weren't really. You always wanted to go back."

Silence fills the car again. Jim faces the front with his hands tapping against his knees, fighting the knot that his chest wants to twist into. He's past this, past the attacks where the world turned and his lungs became useless. He has to be. He's worked too hard not to be. 

"Count," Winona whispers through her tears. "Breathe with me, okay? I'll count." 

Together, they breathe. In three, hold two, out four. They do it six times until the knot dissipates and Kirk can pry his eyes from snow covered fields. He finds his mother looking at him with no more tears, but a focused intent. 

"You know," she says. "I hate the thought of you going away because I couldn't bear to lose you. I never thought about the fact that I already have." 

Jim has nothing to say to that.

(He doesn't want to admit that it's kind of true.)

"This was only ever my home because of George," she continues. "I hated this town. My brothers and I are city folk. But your father wanted the Kirk farm to stay with us after Tiberius died. So we moved here and got pregnant with you, and then we got called back out. The _Kelvin_? That was home. Out there, exploring and fighting and meeting new races, learning new languages...falling in love a thousand times in the back of the engine rooms. This world has never matched up."

"You belong there," Jim tells her. " _We_ belong there, you know? Sam and George might have been made for Earth-side lives, but we weren't." 

"Never have been," she agrees. "Chris, Frank, and I? Always trying to find the next adventure. Figures you would get my genes."

"I was born up there," he sighs. "Part of me feels like I was never supposed to come back down." 

His mother nods. "I understand that. I thought it was safer for you on the ground, but now I wonder...maybe I should have taken you with me. Then we both would been where we belong."

"Hindsight," he murmurs. "It's a bitch."

"For sure." Winona reaches for the gear shift and accelerates. "You're getting an actual wedding. You won't win that argument."

"Oh, your doubt fuels my fire."

"Still a little bastard."

**)-(**

Despite being completely aware of the effect chocolate has on Vulcan biology, Spock enjoys the flavorful drink. He believes his half human physiology will be enough to protect him, as well as the low concentration of cocoa, and chooses to sip from his mug throughout the a movie about a princess in a tower, a movie of which young Peter proves to know every lyric and line. Spock can admit to being impressed when the movie ends. Peter bows, as if his performance was one of a professional stage. Spock, finishing his second mug, finds himself clapping softly. 

"Uncle Spock," he says, straightening himself. "Did you ever play in the snow when you were little?"

"I did not," Spock answers. "I am from a desert planet, where snow has never been known to appear. This trip has been my first experience with the weather."

"You've never made a snow angel?" Peter's jaw is slack with something akin to anger. "We have to fix that!"

"What logic can you offer me, in order to persuade me to partake in this...snow angel business?" 

Peter scrunches up his eyebrows. "Well, you are in charge of my well being and happiness, correct?"

"And it would make me happy, and improve my well-being, if we stepped into the fresh air and...and made snow angels. Together."

"Flawless," Spock approves. "We shall protect ourselves from the cold and seek to improve your general well being."

 _And yet, I am betrayed,_ Spock thinks miserably. He is crouched behind his makeshift fortress, built into a thick oak tree near Jim's childhood home. He quickly makes his snowballs, wary of the quick-armed eight year old lurking just ten yards away. If he can store up enough weapons, the child will not be able to escape the quick succession of snowballs. 

"Spock?" 

The Vulcan in question looks up. His fiance ( _bondmate,_ his katra calls) is standing beside the fortress with eyebrows raised. "Yes, Jim?"

"You're playing in the snow," the man says. 

"How astute, _ashal-veh_."

Jim clearly does not understand the term, though he is annoyed regardless. "Do Vulcans play in the snow?"

"They do to take down your nephew," Spock insists. He returns to his task of carefully crafted snowballs. "You must assist me." 

"Take down?! Spock, he's eight!"

"And he is vicious." 

"How did this even start?"

"That child ran off while we were making snow angels together, something I understood was meant to bond us. When he returned, he began to repeatedly throw balls of snow at me."

"And now it's some kind of war."

"Not _some_ kind of war, Jim, a _true one._ Your nephew is a formidable opponent. Will you join me?" 

Jim looks as if he is prepared to respond when his words are cut off by a snowball to the face. Laughter from the child carries through the air, and Jim scrapes the fluffy ice off of his face. He drops to his knees. Spock is pleased to see flakes still sitting on the other man's eyelashes, and those blazing blue orbs are narrowed in determination. 

"It's go time."

**)-(**

"You only won because there were two of you."

"We had a tactical advantage, it is true," Spock acknowledges, removing his hat. "You, however, employ the human euphemism of playing dirty. A team of two was necessary to counter your underhanded moves."

"That's practically a compliment, Pete," Sam chuckles from the kitchen. "Why don't you guys head into the living room? We can play some chess while we drink more hot chocolate."

"That is agreeable," Spock says. 

"Uncle Spock really likes hot chocolate," Peter giggles. 

"It is a delicious drink."

"Vulcans can't have chocolate," Jim frowns. "It affects you like alcohol affects human."

"I believe my human half enables me to enjoy it," Spock counters. 

Jim narrows his eyes as Spock removes his outer coat. Despite the cold, he is still pleasantly flushed from the exertion outside, and he feels slightly floaty. Apparently, indulging a children's war-like tendencies can be beneficial to adults as well. 

"Holy shit," Jim says after a long moment of.observation. "The snowball fight makes total sense now. You're drunk!"

"I am perfectly well managed," Spock scoffs. "And I did not instigate the snowball fight."

"Well, I'll be," Jim mutters. "You never drink with me, and here you are, toasted as a marshmallow." 

"I have not been put in a toaster or subjected to extreme heats that would allow you to draw that comparison–

"Spock, I'm just annoyed you're drinking without me."

Spock nods in understanding. "Well, as I cannot make myself less intoxicated at this moment, the logical conclusion is for you to indulge in this activity as well. Then we shall be drinking together."

"Drinking is perfect for present opening," Number One says. "Bring me a scotch, Jim, will ya?"

"Sounds like a plan," Jim whistles. "Orders?"

Spock assists Peter in removing his scarf while Jim wanders off into the kitchen. There is the smell of spiced apples in the air, as well as copious amounts of potatoes, onions, and an array of other vegetables. Everything smells delicious. This, paired with the soundtrack of old Terran Christmas music, brings a nostalgic touch to Spock's mind. He recalls his mother, singing and dancing to music while preparing her preferred dishes on the Vulcan calendar's Christmas equivalent. Before Spock took on the teachings of Surak, his young self would sometimes assist. 

_Snickerdoodles,_ he vaguely remembers. _Mother would make snickerdoodles._

By the time he has relaxed himself into the couch, Jim returns with a tray of drinks. Captain Pike is situated by the tree, his wife at his side. They both drink scotch. Sam and Aurelia hold glasses of red wine, snuggled close together on the loveseat. Winona holds a mug of hot chocolate in her hand, legs crossed in a large chair by the fireplace. She looks almost young in the firelight, and there is a hint of Jim in her features. The nose, he thinks, and the shape of the eyes. 

Jim places himself between Peter and Spock on the couch. Once everyone is settled in, Pike raises a glass. "I'm very grateful to you all for getting together for Christmas with me. I know it's not for another two weeks, but I'll miss it while I'm on mission. I'll miss you. And I couldn't ask for a better family. Whatever has happened in the past, whatever shit we've faced, we're here now. We're strong. Our futures are bright. And I am proud to know you all. Merry Christmas."

Spock has enough presence of mind to not press his lips to Jim's temple as everyone embraces where they are. He is not, however, in enough control that he is able to resist brushing his fingers against the other man's when he receives his hot chocolate. "Merry Christmas, Jim."

"Merry Christmas, Spock," Jim whispers back. 

They lean against each other as Number One rises to her feet to present gifts. Spock is surprised to find that presents are placed in his lap. When he looks up in confusion, Winona is smiling. 

"I know that gifts are illogical and Vulcans don't celebrate Christmas," she says. "But we couldn't help it. Welcome to some of our traditions."

Spock places his mug on the table next to the couch. While everyone digs into their own gifts, he begins with a small box wrapped in silver paper. Unfolding carefully at each crease, he is surprised to see a brand new tricorder. It is engraved with his full name in silver writing. He recognizes the model as the newest available, and yet...there are some differences. 

"I modified it a bit," Winona shrugs. "There are some improvements I personally believe needed to be made, so that right there is the best. A mind like yours needs something more than the standard issue the 'Fleet gives."

"I am grateful, Winona," Spock tells her. "This is a...most useful and unique gift."

She winks. "I know a thing or two about Vulcans." 

Among the other gifts is an ancient Vulcan puzzle, a sweater of soft red material, and… “My wedding robes?”

“Yes,” Winona sits up. “Jim, open your box.”

Jim obeys wordlessly. He rips open the packaging to his final box and finds his dark grey suit jacket folded up. In the front pocket is a handkerchief. Spock and Jim both inspect it, and find grey stitching of Jim’s initials into white fabric.

“It’s…” Jim is clearly confused. “It’s nice, Mom.”

Spock picks up his robe, examining where there is new embroidery along the edges of fabric. White and grey twist together to form an ancient Vulcan script. 

“The white on Spock’s robe is lace from my veil,” Winona explains. “And the white of Jim’s handkerchief is from the fabric of my dress. Both of you have thread from George’s wedding tux.”

Jim makes a strange noise, something choked in the back of his throat. Spock, too, struggles to find the words. His mind is sluggish from the chocolate and his heart is thudding too fast in his side. “Winona, this is very thoughtful.”

“I know you never knew him,” Winona whispers. “But we truly loved each other, and I want you both to have something that means a lot, so its like he’s here with us. I know that he would be incredibly proud of who you are, Jim, and the man you found. I may not personally know Spock well, but I know he’s good, and he’s obviously good for you. Too you. You’ve got the same kind of energy your father and I had, where the two of you always seem...connected. You understand each other. And I am so happy, Jimmy, that you’ve found someone who understands you.”

Spock can hear Jim swallow down a shaky, “Thanks, Mom. Seriously. Thank you.”

“Yes, Winona.” Spock dips his head. “You have my thanks.”

The evening passes quietly after that. Captain Pike wraps his arms around Number One as she props open A Christmas Carol. Her voice carries through the living room throughout the night. Even as more hot chocolate is had (with peppermint vodka added for Jim) and food is picked at lightly, Number One continues to tell the story of the man who came to understand the spirit of Christmas. Spock finds the tale appealing, especially when Jim leans heavily into his side and closes his eyes. The story seems to make the entire Kirk clan rest easy, even lulling Jim and Peter both into a sleepy haze.

When the clock strikes midnight, Spock gently wakes up Jim. They bid the others goodnight. Holding on to each other for support, the pair stumble their way up the stairs of the old house. Jim smells of peppermint, chocolate, and cinnamon, a mixture that draws Spock’s nose to his jaw. Jim sighs, leaning into the embrace, before they recall that they are in the hallway outside of their room. 

Spock continues to breathe in the scent of Jim, categorizing the way. The temptation to touch suddenly overwhelms him, and he puts distance between them to better let his fingers ghost over Jim's psi-points. There’s a spark of electricity, a call that takes all of his strength to ignore. So he adjusts his hand to cup Jim’s face before saying, "You are the most aesthetically pleasing being in the known existence." 

"Beauty is subjective, Spock." Jim sounds like he is struggling to breathe. There’s a brush of lust from Jim, but there is something heavier reaching out. Spock wonders if this is what it means to have someone’s katra call to your own--the pull to know, to claim, to protect, _to simply be with_ , all swirling into one thing he’s never felt before. 

Jim is still talking. 

"I can't be more handsome than every being, Spock, because logically what people find pleasing changes, right? So-"

"You surpass them all," Spock says immediately. His hands brush from Jim's face to his hair, and he cannot help but sigh at the contact. "Just as I imagined."

Jim swallows. “Spock.”

“Yes?”

“Maybe...we should go to bed.”

“As you wish, _ashal-veh_.”

They do not move for some time.


	4. hold you up, and hold you to yourself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only the epilogue left! Thank you to everyone for reading, and for my babes in the discord for being so encouraging!  
> Merry Christmas to all!

_“Hello,” Spock says without turning around. “You must be my assigned teaching assistant.”_

_“Yes,” a voice says from behind him, confident and eager. “Uncle Chris--um, Captain Pike, he says that I need something to do to get some responsibility. Apparently a three year command track, heavy on engineering, isn’t enough to keep me out of trouble.”_

_“Boredom is common with many beings of high intelligence, which your testing would suggest you possess.” Spock turns from his stack of PADDs and comes face-to-face with a young blonde man who smiles much too easily and holds no professional care for his uniform. “You are Cadet James T. Kirk?”_

_“Call me Jim,” the man says, blue eyes sparkling with something Spock considers to be dangerous. “You must be Professor Spock.”_

  
When Jim wakes up the next morning, he realizes Spock is in the bed. The Vulcan is laying with his back flat against the mattress, hands folded over his stomach neatly. Despite the formal way he sleeps, his hair is delightfully messed up, and there’s a flush to his cheeks. Jim feels a bit like a perv as he takes in the sight of a relaxed, bare-chested Spock, but the sight is too appealing to look away from. 

He isn’t like this with anyone else, Jim thinks with a warmth blossoming in his chest. Even if its not true love, its gotta be something, right?

As Jim’s thinking this, Spock’s eyes flutter open. Jim is surprised. He always thought that a Vulcan waking up would be a simple opening of the eyes and sitting up straight. Instead, Spock leisurely rolls to his side, half lidded eyes moving to Jim. 

“Your nephew,” he murmurs. “Is a menace.”

Jim can’t stop himself. He giggles. 

“It is not a matter of humor, Jim,” Spock says. “He convinced me I must drink the hot chocolate.”

“How?”

“Apparently it was imperative to his happiness,” Spock says. Jim’s giggling turns into an actual laugh, his face falling forward into the cushion next to Spock’s shoulder. “He also used this logic to get snow angels, and by then I was quite under the influence of chocolate and saw no way out.”

“I cannot believe my eight year old nephew got you hammered.”

“I was no such thing.” Spock insists. “You were...inebriated as well, by the end of the night. Should I mock you?”

Jim pops his head up. “Oh, Spock. I’m _so_ sorry.”

“I do not think that you are.”

“Hmm, nope.” Jim laughs. His eyes trail across Spock’s left arm, along black curves that look almost like a script. “Spock, what does your tattoo say?”

“How do you know it is not simply lines I find aesthetically pleasing?”

“Bullshit. What’s it mean?”

“It is an old terran poem,” Spock whispers. “My mother was quite fond of it. It was written on an old piece of actual parchment, so old and worried she seemed to think it would crumble into dust. After my falling out with my father, I was...in a vulnerable state. So I translated a certain part of the poem to Vulcan and had it tattooed into my skin. I believe I was under the notion that if I were to permanently brand myself with something so sentimental, that I might still feel close to my family."

"And do you?"

Spock seems to think. "Sometimes, yes, I do." 

"Will you tell me?" Jim asks, keeping his voice tentative. "About your family, I mean. I know what happened with your father, and now Michael, but not Sybok."

Spock's eyes are now fully attentive, but he is unguarded as he looks at Jim. "Sybok is eight years my senior. Biologically, he is my half brother. His mother passed before my parents met, but my mother loved—loves—him dearly. He was quite taken with her as well, and became fond of human customs. He often wished to reject the ways of Surak."

"Big no-no," Jim mutters. 

"Indeed. He began rebelling in small ways, and grew drastically as we got older. I held great affection for my brother. He was inspiring and free of constraint. He encouraged me to be as human as I am Vulcan, to achieve a balance. He expressed his love for myself, for my mother, and for my foster sister. For a time, we were quite close. 

"Then, choice words were said in school about my mother and my heritage. My father blamed Sybok for my violent and emotional reaction, and Sybok was furious that I was being punished. He publicly proclaimed that he wished to have nothing to do with the teachings of Surak. He then attempted to rally others behind him."

"And he left?"

"No," Spock says, eyeline drifting past Jim, as if staring somewhere in the past. "My brother was banished in shame from the colony. To please my father, I attempted to be the exact opposite of Sybok: the perfect Vulcan. That did not go so well, as we all now know. Truthfully, the events that transpired because of Sybok is why my mother and I agreed that I would leave the colony of my own free will after rejecting the Vulcan Science Academy. She did not want there to be a permanent punishment for me, to lose another son so completely as she lost Sybok." 

"Do you miss your brother?" Jim presses. "I know I missed Sam all the time, and he _chose_ to leave me."

"I do," Spock replies, gaze moving back to Jim. "But I find his acceptance of who I am, and encouragement to be that, is something you share. It gives me comfort."

"I'm glad," Jim tells him earnestly. "You deserve it."

Spock hums thoughtfully, something Jim has never heard before. The chance to be privy to that makes him feel warm in a thousand different ways. 

"I do hope you understand that you deserve the same acceptance and care, Jim," Spock breaks through his thoughts. "I have noticed that you seem to show open affection for your brother and mother, despite their transgressions. Do you not believe you deserve better treatment?"

Jim swallows, searching for the right words. "I...it's not like I just woke up one morning, and we were all back in each other's lives. When I came back from Tarsus, Mom tried to be there. But to me, it was too late, and she didn't try hard enough. I blamed her for not being there when Frank was beating us, and when he decided to send me off planet, and when I was carrying Kev and the other kids through caves to protect them. But, I don't know. I'm not someone who believes its ever too late to turn around and try to fix things. Nobody is too far gone."

Spock tilts his head. "Although I do not agree, I believe I see your point of view."

"Thanks. And like I said, things weren't better overnight. Sam and I took awhile to get to know each other and move on. Being a dad changed a lot of things for him. And then with Mom...well, we've barely spoken the last three years. I told you on the way here that I preferred spending my breaks with you, with Bones and Gaila, because it was easier. My mom and my brother are family, there's a certain tie to each other that we'll never have with anyone else. But with you guys...I don't know, you chose me. To stick around, to be my friends, to accept me for everything in the past and everything I might do. Honestly, my relationship with all of you is one of the reasons I can move forward with my blood family." 

Spock looks contemplative. "You believe that in the relationships of your life, where we choose to hold affection for one another despite differences, you learned to appreciate your familial bonds?"

"Yeah, exactly."

"I am afraid I do not understand how."

Jim turns on his stomach, propping his chin up on his elbow while he thinks. "So, when I say I have this tie to brother and my mom, I mean that...nobody else knows what it's like to live under Frank, except Sam, because we were tied together. And even across all these systems, I have a connection. No matter the planet I am on, there's always someone out there who is physically part of me. And my mom? She and I are the same person. We love space, exploration, knowledge, the unknown. We both find my dad out _there_. So, I've got these real, tangible connections to these people, right? And then comes Bones, then Gaila, then you. And you all find me frustrating, know about the things I did the survive on Tarsus. You all know that I'm somehow overconfident at the same time that I'm terrified of failing or never living up to George. You know what I'm like when I'm depressed or angry and sleep deprived. And you have no obligation to love me, yet you are all still here."

"I believe that I understand your meaning," Spock says. Slowly, his hand drifts down to Jim's. "And I feel that I must say, while we are here, that I am pleased to have met you. No matter how this wedding or arrangement ends, I will always consider you to be my chosen family."

"So having this wedding shouldn't be that hard for us," Jim breathes. Electricity sparks up his arm as his and Spock's fingers lace together. "Marriage is just two people, choosing each other as their family for the rest of their lives."

"Indeed," Spock agrees. "There will be no falsehood in our vows."

Jim realizes they've come closer together, lips inches apart. All he needs to do is tilt his head, and they'll be sharing their first human kiss, wrapped up in the warmth and safety of their temporary bedroom. He lets himself hope for something more than family. Could he be content, for the rest of his life, simply being Spock's family? Definitely. But is there a part of him that craves the demolition of the wall between them? Yes, yes, _01_. There's never been a time that he hasn't wanted to grow closer and closer to Spock. Friend, family, lover—there doesn't need to be anything between them. 

"Jim," Spock murmurs, voice cracking. "You do not know—"

A knock comes at the door. 

  
_One night I saw a snowflake fall._   
_Past memories it did recall._

_And as the snow fell to the ground,_   
_So quietly without a sound,_

_I watched until a blanket made,_   
_To glistening white - brown earth did fade._

_An untouched cover until the dawn._   
_The sun arose; it was soon gone._

_I thought of friendships in the past._   
_Seemed perfect though they did not last._

_And family ties once meant so much,_   
_Now rarely do we keep in touch._

_So quickly life can take a turn,_   
_Yet slowly we do seem to learn._

_So many things in life can change_   
_And suddenly be rearranged._

_In our slumber while we do sleep,_   
_For granted blessings thought to keep,_

_For same as night does turn to morn,_   
_An untouched blanket can get torn,_

_The things that we have overlooked,_   
_Ignored, rejected or mistook,_

_As melted snow does turn to slush,_   
_Relationships can turn to dust._

_So this year for the holiday,_   
_Praise God for blessings given today._

_Don't take for granted they'll remain,_   
_That life forever will be the same._

_Let's be the most that we can be,_   
_For all our friends and family._

_Unlike the snowflake on the ground,_  
 _Let's keep in touch and stay around._  
-

Friend. Family. Lover. 

Friend, or partner. Brother-in-arms, or family. Soulmate, lover. 

_T'h'yla._

Spock is overwhelmed at what washes over him, at the words he hears from Jim's thoughts engraving on his heart. _We have found him_ , his katra insists. _We have found t'h'yla._

Before Spock can tell Jim, can even bask in the realization of what is before him, a knock comes to the door. 

"Up and at 'em, assholes! Ain't got all day."

Spock knows the voice that speaks. He and Jim share a confused look as they sit up and let their hands separate. 

"Bones?" Jim asks, hesitancy clear in his voice. "Um, come in, I guess?" 

The door bangs open, and Bones stands in the walkway. “Good morning sunshines. Look who I found at the transport station.”

He steps fully into the room, and Kirk almost squeaks when he sees Nyota Uhura. If there’s anyone in this world that frightens him, its this woman, and Spock has observed his fiance's reaction to Nyota many times. She’s highly protective of Spock, terrifyingly brilliant, and almost as collected as a Vulcan. Jim has never been on the receiving end of her warmth. 

“I promise not to hurt him,” Jim says immediately. “Spock is in good hands, and I know that if I fuck it up, I’m going to end up in a shallow grave on some backwater planet that nobody will ever find me on.”

“Well,” Nyota sniffs. “As long as that’s clear.”

“Nyota,” Spock says, fondness seeping through that he cannot hope to hide. “I did not know if you would come.”

“Of course I came,” she says. “Spock, how could I miss this?”

“I am pleased that you are here,” Spock answers. Nyota comes towards the bed. She perches on the edge so that she can touch Spock’s knee through the fabric of his pants. “I’ve already been given the role of kidnapping you and getting you ready for the wedding. Jim’s mother is insistent that you have the most spectacular, relaxed day.”

“I was relaxed,” Jim mutters. A look from Nyota silences him, and he smiles sheepishly at her. “What about me?”

“You’re going with Leonard,” Nyota says. “I don’t know your plans, but I’ve already made mine with Spock. Can you be ready to leave soon?”

“I believe so,” Spock answers. “If you allow me to change, I can be ready in approximately 4.92 minutes.”

“Perfect!” Nyota perks up. “Leonard, what do you say to grabbing some coffee downstairs while we wait for these two love birds?”

Despite the gruff grunt of appreciation, Bones looks perfectly pleased to be accompanying the cadet anywhere. Jim chuckles as he watches them wander back out of the door, letting it hang open. The heavy cloud of anticipation that had been there before was gone, and now it just seemed that Spock and Jim were awkwardly sitting side by side, waiting for their fake wedding to continue. 

“We’ll talk more,” Jim whispers, offering his middle and index fingers. “After the wedding, and everything?”

“Yes, Jim.” Spock takes the embrace and feels affection spark up his arm and settle into his chest. “We will speak more.”  
  


_Jim crouches outside the bar, hands shaking and a little bit of spilled margarita still left on his jeans. The rain should be making him cold, uncomfortable, but it brings a sort of relief. It’s almost washing away the touch of a woman who didn’t understand no, those razor-sharp nails digging into his throat as she pressed him into the wall--_

_“Cadet Kirk?”_

_Jim looks up sharply. Spock--handsome, elegant, brilliant Spock--is standing in front of Jim. He’s beneath an umbrella, though it doesn’t stop the rain from soaking his shoes and uniform pants. Jim’s eyes attach to the mud-soaked hem._

_“Professor,” he croaks. “Odd to see you out of the classroom.”_

_“Are you well, Cadet?” Spock asks, completely ignoring Jim’s quip. “You are-you are injured.”_

_“Just a couple scratches,” he scoffs, as if he wasn’t just crying in an alley way two minutes ago. “Anyways, I better head back inside.”_

_There’s something in Spock’s pursed lips and tilted head that make Jim think the Vulcan knows Jim isn’t going back inside._

_“My quarters are not far from here,” he says. “Allow me to extend an invitation for you to come find warm clothes and coffee until the rain stops.”_

_Jim, for the first time that night, does something he wants to do._

The time leading up to the wedding is spent “relaxing.” Nyota takes Spock to a nearby spa retreat, where he is doted on with skin treatments, delicious foods, a long period of meditation, and time simply spent practicing old Vulcan melodies with Nyota. She is one of the few humans he has met who has truly grasped the intricate formation of Vulcan words. This makes singing with her a treasured past time. 

After they return to the city limits of Riverside, Nyota drives them to a plantation-style home. He finds it interesting that the large manor was built, long after the American Civil War, in the north, to mimic the style of the southern plantations-something that is considered to be a dark stain on the past of the United States of America. 

“People are weird, Spock,” was the only answer Jim could provide when prompted. 

Regardless of the history, Spock is drawn in by the beauty of the home. The outside boast of beautiful columns, wrapped porches, rows upon rows of windows, and a setting atop a hill that looks like a storybook. Inside the home, there are red and white flowers, people milling about with hot chocolate and cider, chairs and tables, and other classic wedding decorations. 

“Spock!” Winona calls, smiling brightly. She’s already dressed in her grey gown of simply silk that looks elegant on her. She wears a coat against the chill in the room and waves a pair of gloves in her hands. 

“Winona,” Spock greets, letting some warmth seep into his voice for her benefit. “Is there any way I may assist you?”

“Absolutely not,” she says, slightly out of breath. “I wanted to let you know that we’ve got a room for you down the hall from the ballroom. There are heaters, a little bit of food, and your robes hung up and steamed. They should be nice and warm for you.”

“I appreciate the effort, Winona.” Spock dips his head slightly. “I will see you when it is time for the wedding, then?”

“Absolutely.” Winona beams. She looks over his shoulder. “Curtis! I was very specific about the location of the sands of Vulcan. Do you know how much that vase cost?!”

Nyota giggles as she and Spock head toward his designated room. 

Upon his entrance into the room, Spock is surprised to find Captain Pike waiting on a couch by the window. He looks up at the sight of the Vulcan and offers a subdued smile. “Commander.”

“Captain,” Spock replies. “May I assist you in anything?”

“Nah,” Pike waves him off. “I just wanted to be the one to give you the good news.”

“I see,” Spock says. “And this news is?”

“Well.” Pike can’t seem to stop himself from grinning now. “You are First Officer of the 'Fleet’s flagship.”

 _Stating obvious facts for dramatic tension_ , Spock notes. 

“And you’re about to be married. So, I talked to Command about making some arrangements, and was able to get Jim reassigned. To the _Enterprise_.”

Something pleased somersaults in Spock’s side. “A logical choice, as separating married couples is not the habit of Starfleet. I believe Jim will exceed expectations aboard the vessel.”

“I think he will too,” Pike chuckles. “And as good as I think you are for him, I have to give him credit. I think he’ll be good for you.”

Spock thinks of their morning, lying in a bed and sharing facts about one another’s life. Never has he been so close to another being. Never has he been so vulnerable, so trusting with anyone except Jim. 

_Friend. Brother. Lover._

_T’h’yla._

_“Happy anniversary!”_

_Spock raises an eyebrow over his computer. Jim stands in the doorway, holding a balloon and a box of tea. “What anniversary is it that you speak of?”_

_“Our anniversary, obviously.” Jim rolls his eyes and strides further into the office. “I’ve been working for you for a year. This the longest - and healthiest - relationship I’ve ever had.”_

_“Do coworkers often celebrate professional relationships in this manner?”_

_“Obviously.” the cadet tosses the box of tea to Spock. “Your favorite, since you couldn’t make it home for this past summer. Now you don’t have to send me out for tea every time the weather dips below thirty.”_

_“So your gift is also selfish?”_

_“Nah, not selfish, just...for the both of us. Since, you know, Vulcans don’t do gifts.”_

_“And you are so well-versed in Vulcans, I see.”_

_“Well how else am I going to figure out how to make you fall in love me?” Jim giggles. He flops into one of Spock’s chairs. “So, what’s on the schedule, today, Teach?”_

Spock loves Jim.

This, he has long since known. 

But this blazing intensity of recognition, the understanding of home—this new, and frightening. This is a marriage of convenience to keep Spock away from Vulcan and to place Jim on the enterprise. This is not the event to take Jim aside and explain what they might be to one another. 

"Spock?" Nyota says softly. "Are you even here?"

Spock raises an eyebrow at her. "Yes, Nyota, I am. As you are currently picking lint that does not exist from my sweater, I would think you were aware."

"Alright sassy," she snorts. "What's going through that head of yours?" 

"I am debating asking you about your sudden closeness with Leonard McCoy." 

"Nope," she says, popping the 'p.' "Try again."

Thankfully, Spock is saved from answering the question by a knock at the door. He is pleased to see Jim step in, looking extraordinary in his suit. The grey compliments his eyes and skin tone well, and the cut of suit leaves little to be desired in his physique. 

As he's always known, Jim is beautiful. 

"Hey," Jim says, coming towards Spock. "Um, there are some people here to see you. They're unexpected." 

Spock feels confusion flick at his mind and straightens his spine. "I see." 

"They're right outside," Jim whispers, coming closer. His hand slides to Spock's wrist, and his thumb boldly slides beneath the fabric of his sleeve. Though Jim's shields are impressive for a human, he is struggling to conceal his worry. "Spock, I'm just gonna say it…"

"Spock."

His eyes travel over Jim's face and to the door where three guests have entered. Something in Spock empties at the sight of his mother, sister, and brother, as if someone has taken a scalpel and hollowed him out. He cannot breathe, he cannot move, he cannot- 

_"Mother_ ," he manages. "How—"

"Michael came and got me," Amanda rushes out. Her eyes are sparkling, and she's got hands to her chest. "And she's been in contact with Sybok, so we all hurried here. Your father, of course, doesn't know."

Spock has nothing to say. 

"Hello, little brother," Sybok says with a smirk. "It's been a long time."

Sybok. Sybok, with long braids and tight clothes, tattoos up the side of his neck and his always feral grin. 

Michael, with her Vulcan-like properness, standing in her Starfleet dress uniform and looking apprehensive in the face of their past estrangement. 

And his mother. His human mother, who stands in beautiful robes and looks as if she wants to reach for him. These people whom he hasn't seen in years, have defied their patriarch and found their way to his wedding. They have to witness a union they believe is born out of love. 

Spock may love Jim, but there is no assurance of the reverse. There is no certainty, no—

There is no air. 

"Forgive me," Spock rasps. "I need...only a moment." 

He brushes past his family and seeks sanctuary out the back door. 

_Jim is making notes on a student’s paper when a figure appears in front of him. He looks up to see Spock holding a large mug, a hypospray, and his usual blank expression. Except, Jim has known him for over a year now, and he recognizes determination in the set of Spock’s jaw and his eyes--expressive eyes._

_“Jim,” Spock says carefully. “You will cease reading papers.”_

_Jim frowns. “But we have sixty papers to read by midnight. Don’t really have time for a break.”_

_“Your finals are done for the semester,” Spock challenges. “And you have not slept more than 2.63 hours since exam week began. I know because I have coordinated with your Dr. McCoy. You also have eaten very little.”_

_“I’m fine,” Jim shrugs. “I don’t sleep much during exam weeks, I never have.”_

_“I am familiar with your test anxiety.”_

_“Well, whatever, I’m going to get all the work you need finished, finished.”_

_“I will complete my own tasks.” Spock steps closer. “I request that you put down your current PADD and drink this soup, which is full of nutrients that will supply your body with what you have been neglecting.”_

_“And the needle?” Jim says warily._

_“I will carefully administer this sleep aid if you are willing. You will rest on the couch in my office until your system naturally wakes itself up.”_

_Jim purses his lips. “You don’t have to take care of me, Spock.”_

_“I apparently do, Cadet,” he raises a challenging eyebrow. “For if I do not, who will?”_

  
Jim races down the road, worry mixing with frustration in his gut. 

_“Jim! Spock is gone.”_

He sees tracks from an old terran bike taking a left, and swing the hoverbike that way. The wind is unforgiving, ice against his cheeks and ruining everything relaxing about the day. _It makes sense_ , he muses, _since I’m chasing my fucking fiance down a snow covered dirt road._

_“He took a bike and he ran off.”_

_“Oh, its my fault! We should go after him.”_

_“No, I’ll do it. I think I’m the one who needs to have this conversation.”_

He urges the hoverbike to go faster. Up ahead, he sees a tall figure in black standing by the bench for public transportation. Something terrified twists in his stomach when he realizes Spock didn't just leave the wedding; he's planning on actually leaving _Jim_. 

"Spock!" he yells, practically leaping off the bike. "Spock, are you serious right now?" 

He doesn't answer. Spock stares at the sign for the bus, expression stony and vacant. 

"Spock," Jim says, softer now. "Please don't shut me out. Tell me why you left." 

"I—" he sounds choked, and the facade falls as he faces Jim fully. Spock looks ashen, frightened in a way Jim only recalls feeling when he saw his family after Tarsus. "I have not seen my mother in three standard years. I have not seen my sister in just as long, and my brother? I have not seen my brother in over twelve.”

“I know,” Jim says softly. “It must have been a lot to experience at once, especially with all those people around.”

“It is more than that,” Spock insists. “I have craved their presence, deep within myself for many years. And the moment they choose to defy my father, _defy_ _Vulcan_ , is to come here and witness a sham of a marriage.”

Jim’s gut twists. _Of course._

“Spock,” he whispers, pleading. “Spock, look at me.”

Reluctantly, the Vulcan raises brown eyes that shine with fear. 

“Don’t go away, alright?” Jim presses close. “Because this isn’t a sham wedding. Didn’t we say so this morning? The promises we make to each other, there’s no lie in any of them. I’m pledging to be with you, forever, as a partner in life and in love.”

“My mother believes I am defying expectations because we are in love.”

“Aren’t we?”

Spock’s breath hitches. “I had not-I was not-”

“Oh, Spock,” Jim sighs. “You’re it for me. I understand if you don't want to risk it, if you’re unsure–”

“You are mistaken, Jim, if you think I do not believe you are worth any risk.” 

“Then trust me.” Jim takes a step of faith and cradles Spock’s face in his hands. “I love you. It's absurd how much, honestly. I know this weekend has been absolutely insane, and I’ve never said it and tried to say it, but I never knew if it was welcome. But after the past few days with you, I think it is.”

“Jim,” Spock breathes, letting his forehead rest against the human’s. “I have long since desired your heart.”

“So marry me.”

“But there is a great deal we have not discussed.”

“Which we will have plenty of time to do if you aren’t being deported and reprimanded by your crazy grandmother,” Jim rushes to say. “I love you, and I will follow your lead, but just...consider coming back. Marry me. We can figure out everything else together. _I swear_ , we will have the chance to figure everything out.”

Spock’s hands cover Jim’s on his face, linking their fingers together. “Very well. If you are willing to have me as I am, half Vulcan and still learning, frightened for the future even though Vulcans do not fear—”

“Of course I’ll have you as you are. Whoever you wanna be Spock, whether it's Vulcan or half Vulcan or not Vulcan at all. I'm here. This is just us choosing each other, remember?”

“An easy choice, then,” Spock murmurs. 

“The easiest,” Jim tells him. “So what do you say, love? Can we go back to our wedding?”

Spock’s kiss is answer enough. 


	5. i'll love you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look inside Spock's meditation while Jim recovers from Kahn's attack.

_Jim._

As I sit here, next to your sleeping form, I find myself thinking of a conversation I had with my sister long ago. Shortly after our wedding and first Christmas together, we had our first fight as a couple. I recall the frustration, the difficulty in choosing how to proceed when you and I were at odds. You had never been angry with me, truly angry, with me before. I was at a loss for how to cope. As my sister and I had recently connected, I reached out to her. 

Michael insisted that occasional fights were normal. She stated that is a byproduct of being in close quarters with someone else. I expressed my worry that it was not the case with you, and that I worried you would begin to regret marrying a Vulcan. I worried that you would begin to regret marrying me. 

Michael's response was to say, "I do not think that is the case. Jim understands what loving somebody really entails."

When further pressed, she declared that love was not about convenience. "It is about pursuing the person you've chosen to stand by. Love is supposed to be built on mutual respect and trust, and when someone makes a mistake, you focus on that. It's not as if you cheated, Brother, or kept a big secret. You miscommunicated by not communicating because you're still learning what it is to be with someone. If Kirk's love can't withstand that, then what can it withstand?"

I have often thought about this through the years. You are an individual who has suffered, many times, at the hands of my indifference or frustrations. You have stood by me when others do not understand. You have peered into my soul to know me in a way not another being could. Our friends often tease that you might be "difficult" or "rash and impulsive" but I disagree. You are frighteningly easy to love. 

It is you, who has loved the difficult one. 

When Nero confronted my home planet, you risked your life to save my mother and father. You helped me see that the right thing to do was pursue him and prevent further distraction when I wished to stay within our quarters and grieve. You took control of the ship with wit and grace. You saved earth. You became a captain. You let me serve with you. 

I love you, _ashayam_ , for how you forgave me after writing a report that hurt us both, and listened to my council after Captain Pike died. You always seek to do the right thing. 

I digress. It is the very reasons that you are easy to love. Your bravery, your intelligence, your care, your joy, your exotically human emotions. You are all I want in the universe, James T Kirk. 

Now, however, I find myself understanding difficulty in loving someone. Right now, I wish to not feel anything for you. I watched you die, and the pain quite nearly drove me to madness. When Leonard said he could save you, the relief broke me. I am exhausted. You have slept for two weeks and I am not sure how much longer I can cope without you. Mother and Michael insist that you will survive because you are Jim. 

What if you do not, _ashal-veh_? What if I lose you? 

I do not wish to love you in these moments. The prospect of reliving that feeling is too daunting. I wish to run from it. 

As I almost ran from you once, but you chased me across your home and brought me back to our wedding. Only this time, it is up to me to stay on my own. You are not here to chase me back home, to give your loving reassurances. This is a decision I must make, to let myself feel this fear, this love, this unforgiving hope...rather than simply turning from emotions until you would not recognize me. 

I will find a way to face these fears, Jim, because that is what love is. I will stand by you. I will not lose faith in you, or in Leonard's skills. 

Return to me, _t'hy'la_. Return. 

Return.

Return. 

I will be here when you awake. 

  
  


* * *

_I'll love you though winters that forget how to end_

_I'll love you though the heat, though rain, though fog._

_I won't forget how to love you, I won't grow weary of it._

_I won't call it burden, and find ways to set it down._

_I'll hold you up and hold you to yourself, what you owe it to yourself to be._

_I'll love you simply, with a joy that borders on madness_

_I'll love you._

_I'll love you._

_-Tyler Knott Gregson_  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> hit me up as maywildflowers on tumblr for a trash can of my faves


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